A Matter of Time
by Ayolen
Summary: "You know, this is actually quite strange… You have been named after your own self." A few years after the war, a potion accident leaves Severus Snape de-aged and returned to his childhood and he is sent to the Weasley until a solution would be found. Around the same time, Harry discovers that Severus Snape is his biological son. -Time travel, abuse, depression [Severus Potter 2]
1. Chapter 1

_This story is a direct continuation of the previous story in this series, "Forward to the Past"._

_I don't own Harry Potter._

* * *

Severus Snape sat gloomily on the clinic bed, his short legs swinging over the edge of the too large bed and he was completely embarrassed and unhappy.

It was not fair at all. He could not believe this was happening to him. Not now, not here, not him. Not at all.

He felt his mind perfectly rational, no matter what they said! He was still an old man, the man resented to himself, if only because no one would listen. Bloody people!

This was another year and quite routine in the bitter life of Severus Snape.

He would resent it, but he did not expect anything different.

Yes, a lot had changed in the few years since the war, but Severus Snape was a man of routine. No matter how much he was called out to celebrate his heroism in the wizarding world, that no door would be locked in his face, the dark man preferred to spend the rest of his miserable life in his dungeons in Hogwarts.

It was just another thing he was preventing. But fate would not have given him peace. of course not.

At first the irritating Granger forced him to swallow a bezoar and draw time until he was properly treated, and after that, the vile Potter just had to thank him in public.

There is no rest for the wicked.

Severus sighed gloomily. And now that too.

He thought of the potion mixture that had been blamed for the situation. He remembered how he looked between her and the two other cauldrons he was working on at the time, various components scattered on the table. And realized to his horror, that he was not sure which one he had put into a mixture.

How could he let it happen? Potions require serious attention and concentration that has never disappointed him.

It was not good.

And what was worse, if this potion went wrong, Poppy would not let him hear the end. The witch was so sure he could not effort himself that way.

Severus snorted, exactly what she had done.

He grabbed his wand to conceal the suspect content that had been created, resigned to the double work he had to do, but before he could lift the stick, the potion exploded, covering the potion manager and all around him.

Those moments were the worst thing Severus had felt for years, a pure torment that felt like a double Cruciatus curse.

He did not hear the commotion or the explosion. He heard nothing through the loud reduction in his ears and the shriek in his head. His dark vision and all his limbs felt as though they were falling apart. He did not know if he screamed, if his throat could contain it at all.

When he woke up later, he found himself in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey leans over him and Minerva looks at him closely.

"You're finally awake, young man! Do you know how you frightened us?"

Severus felt all his limbs shouting in protest, but firmly rolled his eyes, "Poppy, calm down, it was just a little mistake..."

"A little mistake?!" Cried the medwitch, "You've been unconscious for hours, we've found you covered in an unknown fluid!"

"Yes, it was a little mistake, now forgive me when I go back to work." The potion manager was getting up from his bed, only to fall back to the cushions, when there was a firmness pushing his chest.

"Oh, no, you're not going anywhere, Severus Tobias Snape!" She cried in a firm voice that gave no room for argument. "You stay here until I tell you otherwise! Are you hear, young man?"

Severus snorted, "If it were up to you, I'd spend my whole life here."

"Maybe that's what you're going to do, given that you've kept yourself out of therapy for very long years, your body is full of different and shocking injuries!"

Severus grumbled angrily and noticed the look of the two women. "What's that?" Demanded, he really did not have the strength for it. His body throbbing with dull pain and his head felt as if he were drowning in cotton.

Minerva looked at him appraisingly. "There are some... disruptions."

"Disruptions?" The patient repeated. "What happened to my potions laboratory?"

McGonagall grimaced. "Well, many of the potions have been damaged, as well as many other items, and the elves have begun to work on the reconstruction, but they assume it will take at least two weeks to return the site properly for reuse."

The black eyes widened in disbelief at the words, "Two weeks?" He returned in shock.

"Yes, but that's not what we should have told you." The old witch looked away from her young colleague.

"I will not have a potion laboratory for two weeks?" Severus repeated, his mind remained fixed on the bitter news he had received.

"As things look at this point, more than that."

"More?" Snape echoed after her.

"Do you know what was in the potion that hurt you?"

"...No."

"So you do not even know how to neutralize it?"

Severus shook his head slowly, a terrible suspicion creeping into his heart.

"So it seems a lot more." Minerva concluded.

Severus squinted, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your total lack of logic when it comes to understanding what is right and what is not, is what!" The medwitch broke into the professors' conversation and examined it with a critical eye.

"I know very well what I can do!"

"Ampfff!"

Severus looked between the two women and squinted, "Tell me already!"

"Severus, it seems that the potion you were brewing had unexpected side effects..." Minerva sighed, "Maybe you should see for yourself." With a wave of a wand, she realized before him a mirror.

Severus's eyes widened in disbelief, "No..."

In front of him, the figure that looked back, was not of the patronizing man in his mid-forties. No, the face they looked at was ridiculously small and childish.

"No student of mine will now be deterred by a scowl!" Wailed the little professor.

"Severus, I do not think this specific problem will be at the top of your mind right now, especially since you are a young boy who can't teach a class... We will have to find a place where you can be until we find a solution..."

"It's not fair!"

"Right, young man, not fair at all." Madam Pomfrey scolded him. "And who is to blame for this, ah? How many times have I told you not to do more than one potion at a time? Not to mention that you should have taken a break! You do not sleep enough, almost not eat! Oh, yeah, and don't dare look at me like that, I aware of it! How do you think you can follow the instructions exactly?"

"I know exactly what I have to do!"

"And that's why you're stuck in this tiny child's body right now?"

Severus folded his arms and glared at her.

Minerva was quick to separate the two sides of the quarrel.

"It does not matter right now. Severus, you've got a family that will adopt you until we find a way to get you back in. You are now a young child who needs proper care."

"I do not need a adoptive family, I'm an adult, Minerva!" The little boy growled at her.

"You definitely need. Your current body is affect your mental state, you may soon want some toys, too." Poppy added.

"There's no way!" Severus said, horrified.

"On second thought, you probably will not change much, even when you are an adult, you behave very childish in certain areas."

"No, I'm not!"

"Now, Severus, be a big boy and stop making scenes." Reprimanded the headmistress in a terminal tone.

That's how, Severus Snape found himself sitting on the too large bed for his tiny body, and was waiting frantically for the representative of his adoptive family for the near future.

* * *

_A/N: __Hello everyone!_

_I really hope you like that!_

_I know I have a few stories waiting for updates, I do not forget them, just... It takes time ^^_

_Sorry again for all the mistakes that there are, English is not my language and I use a lot of google translate._

_Not hesitate to leave reviews and comments!_


	2. Chapter 2

_I don't own Harry Potter._

* * *

Minerva welcomed Mr Weasley as the last one left the Floo in her office.

"Arthur, I'm glad you could come by so briefly." Greeted his face.

Arthur smiled kindly, "Hello, Minerva. I got your message, you said it was something urgent..."

Professor McGonagall's expression grew serious as she nodded her head in the affirmative.

"Well, you see, in one of Severus's recent potions experiments, an unexpected situation arose." She opened the explanation.

The two adult wizards turned to walk towards the clinic.

The witch is serious in explanation, going straight to the matter, "Apparently, the potion had a regression effect, and as far as is known, no one has ever made a similar potion. Or a spell." She added thoughtfully. "Therefore, there is no apparent solution in sight for this unusual situation."

Arthur nodded gravely as she flattened the recent events before him.

"So you're saying, actually, that Severus Snape created a potion that brings back youth? Merlin," Arthur groaned, "some people I know would love to use it."

McGonagall nodded, a gloomy smile on her lips, "Severus has always been especially talented in potions. You know, he is the youngest and most gifted potion master ever qualified since Hogwarts history." She paused for a moment, "Though those words are taking on new meaning now."

Arthur laughed a little, "I'm sorry. But the situation is too absurd."

"I know," Minerva sighed, though the corners of her mouth curved slightly upward, in what was clearly a symbol of a tiny smile.

Loud voices greeted the two as they approached the hospital wing.

"I had to test you when you were unconscious, you brat. Is that what I get for being patient?" The medwitch sounded accusatory.

The voice that replied was high and thin, yet full of ridicule. "Gryffindors have always loved to think of themselves as such noble. It's a shame you don't know how to exploit opportunities that have fallen on you."

"I clearly don't let you go anywhere without first diagnosing you!" Poppy's voice was resolute, as if daring her patient to resist.

Well, that was nothing to deter Severus Snape. "Great! So we won't go anywhere. Tell the old goat don't bother looking for any stupid foster family." The potion professor returned with increasing fury.

"Oh, yes, young man? You know very well what will happen. Stay confined to the clinic bed, no more walks, no forest, no classrooms." Her voice become lowered to a malicious whisper, "No more potions!"

"I'll do what I want." Snape hissed, refusing to surrender.

Poppy didn't answer him as she turned to the pair of wizards who entered the hospital wing. "Arthur, good to see you."

"So do you, Poppy." The man greeted the nurse, but his attention quickly shifted to focusing on the young boy sitting on the clinic bed. A deep, black look from a body so thin and small. Seven years old, maybe eight at most.

"Minerva!" Cried Severus, ignoring the extra man in the room. "Tell Poppy to leave me alone." Demanded.

Minerva credited her childhood colleague with an unimpressed look over her glasses, "Yes? Well, I don't think I will. I think it's about time for you to get one scan in your life. Besides," she added, "I don't appreciate being called an old goat."

Poppy nodded gravely, "So come on, be a big boy and let us check you out."

Severus stared deadly at them and folded his arms over his chest.

"No."

"Severus..." The tone of transportations professor's voice was cautious.

"No." Severus hissed furiously.

"Are you scared?" Teasing the medwitch.

"I'm not afraid!" The boy cried.

Madam Pomfrey smirked at the childish response.

Severus must have realized this, because he stared at her for a moment, not yet shifting his eyes from her and shrugging his shoulders with mock indifference, "Whatever."

"From what? And don't say pain, you've been through much worse."

"I can take care of myself."

"Well, it certainly doesn't look that way."

The boy was silent for a long time when he spoke, his voice was emotionless. "I've survived so far."

Poppy and Minerva exchanged a quiet look. "I know," the medwitch's voice softened, "but I don't want you to go through all this again. You don't have to. The war is already behind."

Severus chose not to answer, instead, he fixed his gaze on the redhead present in the room. It was clear that the boy had grasped the reason.

"Tell me," he turned slowly to McGonagall, supposedly letting her reconsider, "that you didn't mean him to take me."

The headmistress was not impressed, "In truth, that was definitely my intention."

Severus glared at her, "I'm not going to live at the Weasley!"

Minerva shrugged, "Okay. I thought you'd prefer it over Lupin, but I can contact him if that's your choice."

Severus stared at her in disbelief, and she made it clear, in case it still wasn't enough, "These are the only two choices."

"Why can't I just stay at Hogwarts?" The boy tried desperately.

"As things look right now, you can come here next year. As a student."

Severus cried out in muffled protest.

Arthur turned to the medwitch that was approaching him during the dialogue. "Next year?" Repeated the question.

The woman nodded. "Severus has returned to his ten-year-old body." Her features twitched anxiously.

"He's very small for his age." The ginger man remark quietly.

Poppy sighed, "Yes, he is, but it's not just that." She remained silent for a moment, before continued quietly. "He is underweight and apparently neglected when he was actually at that age... There are also signs of abuse." She turned to the man and looked into his eyes, "He may revert to the behavioral patterns of his age, which means that the trauma he has undergone can manifest itself sharply. Please, be patient with him."

Arthur looked at her in amazement, before resetting himself and nodding gravely.

There was a long silence, the head of the Weasley family exploring the new supplement to his family in silence.

"So anyway you managed to scan him?" Arthur finally asked, breaking the silence.

A malicious smile spread across the medwitch's face, "Who said I was a Gryffindor?"

* * *

_A/N: I'm so sorry that take so much time._

_I really wanted to be able to update this work faster, the problem that I'm a perfectionist, and constantly worrying about doing something wrong and maybe having to do it differently..._

_Please review! _


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own Harry Potter._

* * *

Not a week. Not a month. Three.

Three months.

Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. It had been three months since he had sent his son into the past, and life had gone into some grim loop of routine.

Ginny and he had trouble going on with their lives. It was so wrong. How could he move on knowing he had sent his son away?

It was such a central hole.

No matter how busy they were, it wasn't enough. The despair seemed to haunt him behind the corner, and Harry had more and more difficulty, with each passing day, avoiding letting it take over.

Ginny didn't blame him, but Harry couldn't share the feeling. He knew better. He is the one who made the choice. And now he couldn't tell where his son was, when... As far as he knew, his little baby could die before Harry was born.

If he only noticed what time he came back, if he just looked around a bit, if only...

He shook his head and reminded himself that it was forbidden to engage in "ifs", he knew better.

And yet... it was so difficult to apply it.

He was embarrassed to admit it, but he now understood people's obsession with death. The lack of acceptance in giving to the dear to you to go. There was something so wrong about continue living after the passing of a dear person, and yet it was the cycle of life.

Surprising how much love can be painful.

It's easy to sacrifice yourself to keep your dear, but when others are what you have to sacrifice... By comparison, everything gets proportions.

The time turner was shattered in his hands, yet he was unable to fully return to the present, no evidence remained... nothing remained.

No matter how much he searched, there was nothing.

There was nothing to start the search.

At that point, he pretty much wished for a miracle.

They stopped getting out of their home beyond the basic necessity of living, but someone from their family and friends visited them regularly, trying to keep company and support the young couple mourning their only child.

He didn't know what to do and wanted to cry for the helplessness he felt.

That was the right choice. He knew it. He had no other option at the time. So his son will live in the past, adopted, but alive.

But now... how can he fix it?

Harry looked gloomily at the framed photograph on his desk, his family's jubilant faces beaming at him warmly. He ran his thumb over the little figures, how much he wished to return to that moment. Whole family, happy.

Will it ever come back?

But a past is a past. And it's all just a matter of time.

In addition, if he found Albus Severus, he might be a much older person. It didn't matter, Harry knew, they would get him in any way, just find him.

But would he like to go back to them?

With a quiet sigh, Harry focused his attention on the oppressive document before him, sinking in his duties again as a auror.

The work was tedious, he couldn't understand what attracted him to it before, but he really enjoyed it for a while... Only now, everything seemed so insignificant...

Harry completed the last worksheet and put the pages in the job binder. He hated routine.

He got up from the wooden chair on which he was sitting, stretching his stiff bones from the long sitting, not yet gathering the binder and turning to the closet. The document shelf was the top of them and the fatigue he felt made him shudder as he put the binder in place, dropping some of the items on the lower shelves.

Harry looked up with a sigh and knelt down to catch on some pens and decorative objects. When he return them to their place, he noticed a tiny test tube that had fallen into the pensive that lay right underneath it. The silver mist twisted out of the space that had locked him for years and slowly dissipated inside the tub.

Oh, yes. There was that, too. He had to give it back so long ago... how has he neglected it so far? Harry leaned slightly over the sink, holding the small glass vial to recapture the memories as he froze.

The silver threads that were able to spread in their new space shaped an old and familiar scene. His galloping mind absent-mindedly noted that Harry had already seen it twice, but that was not what caught his attention.

Neither the boy who curled in the corner nor the angry man towering over the woman. But the woman...

Harry stared wide-eyed and his heart pounding, thinking of bursting out of his chest.

No...

The scene changed and featured the two young children talking in a park in Cockworth.

But Harry was frozen in place, unable to move, even long after the last memory had faded.

* * *

_A/N: __I know that was a lot of time, __I find myself doing a lot of different things instead of writing... I'm really lazy, but I really hope to update this story more. _

_Feel free to nudge me update more. ^^_

_I hope you enjoyed!_


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